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Authors: Megan Thomason

BOOK: daynight
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When I finally looked up I saw a startlingly striking face with dark hair, blue eyes, and a five o’clock shadow sitting across from me. He wore a black suit, white on white pinstriped shirt, and a yellow power tie. Man he was drop-dead gorgeous. Why hadn’t someone lured him into a dark corner?
 

“Hey, I’m Ethan,” he said. “You look kind of bummed. Can I help?” he said in a deep, alluring voice. I liked him already, just for reading my mind and knowing I needed assistance. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. He shifted uncomfortably, as if he wasn’t quite certain he wanted to be there.

It took me a moment to compose myself, disarmed by his out-of-context presence and stunningly unique and quite beautiful eyes. They were a deep sapphire blue, but sparkled with topaz-colored specks and framed by dark, curly lashes. His dark-brown hair was cut above the ear, but on the long side, disheveled, and had a slight wave. That combined with the stubble along his perfectly carved jaw line made for sheer perfection.

“It’s just this entire day. I’m done with it,” I said.
 

“I don’t blame you. It’s pretty late,” he said. “So why are you still here?”
 

“I can’t find my boyfriend,Tristan. Or my best friend, Briella. And everyone’s had so much to drink that I’m not getting a lot of help locating them,” I said.

“Your best friend and boyfriend—they ditched you?” he asked.

“Yeah, Bri’s been my best friend for ten years. And, Tristan and I have been dating for a year. But, I did something that really upset him today, so he was drunk by the time he picked me up for the dance and it’s gone downhill from there,” I said.
 

“Do tell,” he’d said, his smile spreading from the right side of his mouth to his left. “I love a story about a rotten day.”

“Why’s that?” I said, returning his smile. “You like to see strange girls miserable?”

“Hardly. It’s a matter of perspective. If your day sucked enough, it’ll make mine seem tolerable,” he said, laughing, although his laugh had a nervous twitch to it. Hot guy with a sense of humor and a tinge of shyness. As if he needed more appeal.
 

”Why was your day sucky?” I asked.

“Hmmm. My parents and uncle want to control every aspect of my life, including who I date. I got forced into doing a ridiculous job that I didn’t want to do. And, then I saw some stuff tonight that I never wanted to see. Your turn,” he said. I wonder what he saw tonight that bugged him? Maybe he toured the upstairs by mistake. Or maybe he got a glimpse of the whole body painting on the Oriental carpet incident.

I needed to talk things through with someone, so I unloaded about the SCI Test and how terrible I felt for letting down my friends. Given how well he listened and how supportive he was, it was the one time I’d regretted being tied down to Tristan. But, I’d have never acted on it. Despite how much I wanted to. If I had to rate how attractive Ethan was on a scale of one to a hundred, I’d give him a billion. No guy’s ever had such a strong effect on me, and it wasn’t just because of his looks. The only way I could describe it is that he felt right—as if he were the finishing touch on my masterpiece I didn’t know was missing.

Ethan was sweet. Flirty. Sober. Soft-spoken. Shy. Kind. Smart. And he gave me a serious case of the butterflies. Talking to him was effortless and made me happier than I’d been in months. He asked me about my life and interests for what seemed like hours, even though the conversation lasted less than forty minutes.
 

Mid-way through our discussion he shifted over to sit directly next to me. So close that we rubbed shoulders. “Let me see your hands,” he said. “I’m a bit of an expert on life lines.”

“Are you? Where do you pick up such a skill? Did they cover that in Bad Pickup Lines 101?” I asked with a chuckle. He took my hands in his and ran his fingers along my palms, which sent shock waves through my body and made my heart race. His fingers were long and soft, silky almost.

“I must have missed that class. To be honest, I’ve never had occasion to, uh, use a pickup line,” he said, looking embarrassed. “I learned palm reading from my mom. She’s a little quirky. I don’t believe in any of this life line stuff, of course, but if I did, this would show that you’ll have a long and happy life full of passion with the man of your dreams, and that you’ll have a whole host of children.” He pointed out the various lines that were supposed to validate his theory. So, if I considered Ethan to be dreamy, did that mean I got to have his host of children?
 

“You’ve never used a pickup line?” I ask. He gave me a puzzled look. “No, you wouldn’t, would you? You probably have to fight girls off with a stick.” I cringed and then blushed, not having meant to say that last bit aloud.
 

“Something like that,” he chuckled.
 

In an effort to change the subject, I grabbed his hand and turned it over. “And what do your lines say?”

“That my mom taught me how to get a pretty girl to hold my hand?” he joked, the nervous twitch in his laugh appearing again. I bit my lip as he looked up at me through his impossibly long lashes. Why couldn’t I have met this guy a year ago? Of course, Tristan had been sweet and kind at first, too.

“I thought you were beating girls off with a stick, not having to get pointers from your mom,” I said with a flirty smirk. He grinned from the right side of his mouth again. Wow. Sexy.

He took a deep breath before saying, “Sorry, I hope I didn’t offend you in my lame effort to continue to make conversation.” He paused a long moment. I watched as he rubbed his fingers along his thumb in a fidgety manner and then said, “So, is it a forever kind of thing with your boyfriend?”
 

“Uh, well, I mean, I don’t know,” I’d replied, tripping over my words. “I’m seventeen. I’m not thinking about forever quite yet.”

“Really? I’m surprised. I guess that I think you just know if you’re meant to be with someone. Or that a person should after a year,” he said, a sober look on his face, as he did the whole hand fidgeting thing again. He was right and I knew the answer, but didn’t feel comfortable dissing Tristan with a guy I was so attracted to.

“So you’re telling me that you can tell off the bat if a girl you meet is perfect enough to spend a lifetime with? You believe in the whole love at first sight thing?” I asked, turning his question back at him, a little curious if he had a ‘forever someone’ since I was starting to think there was something to the whole love at first meet thing myself.

“Definitely. I mean, I’m pretty sure I’ve found my better half,” he said, looking up at the ceiling. “I’m not sure I’ll ever recover after meeting her. Over the course of our very first conversation I went from being an avowed bachelor to wanting marriage, kids, growing old together, the works...” Not fair. Of course. The good ones are always taken.

“So, are you going to marry her? Did she feel the same way when she met you? The whole thing’s so romantic,” I said. And so unfair, I thought to myself. Because over the course of my conversation with Ethan, I went from being Tristan’s girlfriend and not thinking about forever, to imagining marrying Ethan, having his kids, and growing old together. But, Ethan was already planning that life with someone else.

“Hmmm,” he said as he stared into my eyes in such close proximity that I could smell the hint of cinnamon on his breath. “I surely hope so on both fronts, but I guess I’ll have to wait and find out.”

“Lucky girl,” I said, meaning to say it under my breath, but he obviously heard it and I turned crimson.
 

“On the contrary. I’d be the lucky one,” he said before taking another deep breath. I watched as his eyelashes fluttered as he thought about the girl. Then he checked his watch, the moment having turned quite awkward. “Perhaps I better help you find your friends. What do they look like?” To be honest, I’d completely forgotten that I was at a party, had come with my boyfriend, and had been searching for him. I flushed an embarrassed red and then gave him detailed descriptions of Bri and Tristan. His face went dark as I finished.
 

“Maybe it’d be better if I gave you a ride home. I think I saw them and they were in pretty bad shape. You might want to let them sleep it off and talk to them tomorrow,” he said. I paused because I was tempted to accept the ride and avoid dealing with my drunken friends. Plus, I’d have loved to spend more time with Ethan.
 

“Where were they?” I said, jumping up and realizing that I’d never leave Tristan and Bri behind without making sure they were okay. Ethan hesitated and then stood. Stuck his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth for a while. Stared at his feet. He mumbled his response.

“Last I saw they were in the game room down the hall and to the left… back of the basement,” he said, biting the side of his lip and giving me a look of sheer pity.

“Thanks. I should go deal with them… mop up their puke or whatever,” I’d said, but hesitated when Ethan spoke again. I wasn’t ready for our conversation to end, but felt guilty about talking to him, especially after I’d been thinking of having his babies after just meeting him.

“Yeah, of course. I shouldn’t have kept you so long. It was selfish of me, but I can’t help it. It was really, really nice to meet you. Would you mind if I took your picture to remember you by?” he said. “You look… out of this world.” Me, otherworldly? Hardly. Him? Definitely.

“Sure,” I’d said, blushing at his compliment. He came close to brush my hair out of my eyes with his hand and my knees buckled at his touch. He hesitated as he stared into my eyes and then trailed his gaze to my lips. In that moment, I lost my senses and wanted him to kiss me. Or perhaps it’s now that I want that, given what I saw after, but instead he was a perfect gentleman; perfectly loyal to his girlfriend as he should be. My cheeks burned when he took a quick picture with his phone. After, I wished I’d taken a shot of him, but at the time I didn’t want to have to explain to Tristan why I had a picture of a hot college guy on my phone.

“Kira, I hope to see you again soon. Good luck with your friends.” He waved goodbye and slowly walked away, turning back a couple times to look at me. I paused to watch him leave, taking note that he looked as good from the back as he did from the front. Should have gotten a last name to make it easier to stalk him online and scout out the lucky girl that scored big time. All that conversation and I realized I knew almost nothing about him.

Oh well. Time to locate and detox my friends. I followed the directions Ethan had given me and opened the door to the game room. The sight sickened me.
 

Tristan and Bri were making out smack dab center of a large circle of kids and they seemed to be enjoying it, because my mental clock clanged thirty notches of no-holds-barred tongue action, groping, and body grinding before they stopped. Lucas had rolled to his side he was laughing so hard over the spectacle.
 

Tristan caught my eye and panicked. “It’s not what you think. It’s just a stupid game of truth or dare. Lucas dared us. Go ahead and kiss Lucas if you want to get even,” he said. He signed another “forgive me.” Reflexively, I shook my head to the side. Not cool, not cool at all, I thought. Tristan and I supposedly loved each other, despite the recent awkwardness. Bri was my best friend. I couldn’t handle it, so I bolted. I figured I’d deal with them when they were sober and I hurt less. Neither followed me. Were they too drunk to walk or understand what they’d done? Too ashamed? Or waiting for me to cool off? Who was I to talk anyway given I’d just spent a chunk of the last hour flirting with a guy who embodied everything I’d ever wanted in one single, gorgeous package? But I didn’t act. That’s the difference. Loyal me. And, apparently, stupid me.

One thirty-three a.m.
With the front door behind me, I ran down the long driveway into complete blackness. My cell phone had zero bars in the house, so I kept moving in an effort to get a signal to call and beg my brother or parents to rescue me. The only sober soul I’d encountered—and thus only candidate to drive me home—was College Boy and I couldn’t find him after he pointed me in Tristan and Bri’s location.
 

No bars on my cell.. I started pleading with my phone to behave and make the call. Then I thought I heard someone call my name. I looked around to see the source, hoping my brain properly registered it as Ethan’s. He’d have made a perfect knight in shining armor come to rescue me.

Suddenly lights blinded me. A pickup truck turned into the driveway, coming inches from hitting me, swerving just in time. I stood shaking from the near miss. A boy jumped out of the truck to make sure I was okay. I’d been shocked to see it was Blake Sundry. I hadn’t seen him at the dance, nor was he dressed for it. He wore the same flannel and jeans as earlier. Why was he there then? Right, his drunken sister was inside and she’d probably asked him to bring her home. At least she’d had the sense to call him. Maybe they could drop me off on their way back?

“Trying to get yourself killed? You about gave me a heart attack!” he said without apology for almost running me over.
 

“Not at all. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t get a signal on my cell phone to call my parents for a ride and wasn’t paying attention to where I was standing,” I said, although he made that turn at a pretty high speed.

“Well, I didn’t see you until the last second. You were right in the middle of the...” He didn’t finish. His eyes went wide.
 

A gush of hot air blasted me into Blake, followed by a sonic boom so loud my ears rang in pain. Subsequent explosions sent us flying alongside missiles of glass from his truck and a fiery rain of shrapnel. We both turned towards the house to see the source of the explosion, but where the house once stood looked like an apocalyptic graveyard, with walls of fire descending the hills in every direction. Panic paralyzed me.
 

I could see their faces. Tristan. Bri. Lucas. Ethan. What happened? Were they still alive? I wanted to help but my muscles failed me. Moments passed before my brain registered physical pain radiating throughout my body. Glass fragments embedded in my arms and legs, burns from flying debris, my dress shredded, blood everywhere. How could we help our friends escape as the fires of hell bore down upon us with no visible path through?

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